And She Thought She Had a Rough Week…

First off, I want to thank you to everyone who took the time to read my post (I suggest you read that first, and then read this one) and comment on it. I have gotten so many comments, messages, emails and texts encouraging me that I am not alone in this battle! I have literally cried through each one, and it has meant so much to me. I’m glad that so many of you read this here blog and take the time to let me know what it means to you.

Second, after publishing that post I was feeling pretty down, so I decided to use some humor to try and make the situation a little bit better… Enjoy….

Dear blog readers,

So my “mom” keeps crying on and on about these bugs called fleas. She keeps telling my “dad” that she has had a really rough week.

Don’t get me wrong, she is a great “mom”. She pets me and feeds me, and usually lets me sleep in her bed. She makes sure I have water and a comfy place to take my naps. Sometimes she even takes a nap with me (but “dad” is way better at that!).

But, let me tell you…she doesn’t know what she is talking about when she says she had a rough week. Let me tell you about my week. Actually, let’s go back to three weeks ago, when this whole thing began.

They were leaving for a trip, I just knew it. They always do this crazy run-around-like-the-chickens-in-the-backyard ritual before they leave. They always ignore me when I say I’m hungry. They run in and out of the house, the call people on the phone, they close up all the doors and windows. Then, they try to do this “tricky” thing where they fill up my food bowl, then try to hide it from me by picking me up and cuddling me and saying all these sweet little things about how much they love me. I pretend like I have no clue about the food, because as soon as they leave I’ll just eat my fill!!

My little brother BB, he hasn’t done this as many times as me, so he cries for a while after they leave. But I show him the food bowl and we eat until we can’t eat anymore, then we lay on the couch and sleep for a long time, then get up and eat some more. The first few days are kinda great. It’s boring when “the parents” are gone, though. The chickens are all locked up so we can’t watch them, and the windows are mostly closed so we can’t hear the birds. Pretty soon, we run out of food. Usually they come back not too long after we run out of food. Oh, and the bathroom starts to get really smelly. Right around this time, I started to notice that my bug bites were getting pretty bad.

A couple days of this, and some young guy comes by and gives us food. I purr to him so he knows that I really like that, and hope that he will come by some more. Every day I assume that “the parents” are coming home, but it seems to be taking them a long time this time. The young guy comes by and feeds us AGAIN. By now, I’m really starting to get itchy. It’s so darn hot in the house, and I cannot keep the bugs off me. BB is miserable, too, and he cries a lot, but I don’t have a lot of patience for him. We just lay around and sleep as much as we can, but the bug bites are starting to get worse, especially when we just lay there. BB got down some cereal from on top of the fridge, and we ripped that open and ate some because we were REALLY hungry. BB isn’t very picky with what he eats, but I prefer the good stuff, so this was pretty depressing and a new low for me.

I had completely given up when one night I saw headlights shine in the window and “the parents” were home!!!!!! They came in and BB and I stumbled towards them, begging for some real food, and some relief from the itching. “Mom” picked me right up and started petting me…oooooh, I was soooo delighted that they were home!!! They fed us, and started cleaning up the cereal that BB dumped on the floor. They also had to clean up some of my pee, because that litter box was just too nasty for me to use. You wouldn’t pee in a filthy toilet, would you??? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

A couple minutes later, *it* (“mom” doesn’t know I know a different word to put into that sentence) all hit the fan. “Mom” finally found the bugs. The pesky bugs that wouldn’t stop biting BB and I. “The parents” had a major freakout, and it was like a tornado hit the house. Within minutes, “mom” was crying (she does that a lot…and along with the crying her belly has gotten bigger. I think someone should tell her there is a really negative side effect to her crying so much. It’s making me a little bit worried…she looks like she might pop by now). Anyways, “mom” was crying, and “dad” was throwing stuff out on the front porch. Before I knew it, he had scooped me and BB up and threw us into the garage. The last thing I saw before he slammed the door was “mom’s” face, bawling and crying. It was absolutely awful. I didn’t know what was happening.

They left me and BB in the garage for 3 days. Those were probably the worst 3 days of my life. They must have turned on the heater, because it was so darned hot in that room. Then, they decided that I needed a bath. I HATE baths, but I have to admit that it did help with the itching and the bugs a little bit. They also got this spray stuff and squirted it at me. It reeked, and it made me feel sick to my stomach. Then, I was stuck with BB, who got really depressed and didn’t really eat much food (but, hey…more for me!). “The parents” would come out and see us every few hours, but they weren’t as affectionate as they used to be. I think maybe they thought the bugs were contagious?

Yeah…you think I’ve had a bad few weeks? Just wait…it gets worse. On day two, “mom” comes into the garage and puts a collar on me! A collar? What am I, a dog??? And the collar smells!

Oh, and speaking of dog. This must be some kind of joke…but sometime when BB and I were locked in the garage, “the parents” went and got a dog. Like, a real live one. Yeah, can you believe it? I couldn’t! The first time I saw this thing, I didn’t even know what to do…so I forgot to remind him that it’s MY territory first, then BB’s second. I completely FORGOT! But you can’t blame me, after the weeks I’ve had, right?

So…here I am, locked in the garage, being treated like a prisoner in my own home, with a collar on, and getting bathed every two days (as if I can’t bathe myself…c’mon). Then, “dad” brings out the buzzer. That thing must be from hell. It’s loud and I have to lay in weird positions for “dad” to shave off all my glorious orange fur. Then “mom” comes out and says I look like a lioness! A lioness! That’s a girl! I look like a girl! So I protest, of course…but “dad” continues…and BB gets the treatment, too. I have to admit that when I caught sight of BB, I laughed. He looked so skinny without all his fur!

(Now, don’t tell…but I am actually liking my haircut. It’s much cooler, and the breeze actually gets to my skin. Plus, “dad” left a little tuft of fur on the end of my tail, and I think it makes me look exactly like a great male lion, just like the ones (I think) I descended from. Plus, it really did help the itchiness and I think its helping me get rid of the bugs!)

Finally, “mom” let me back in the house, but she won’t let me into her bedroom. They still come at me with this annoying comb a couple times a day. The house is cleaner than I’ve ever seen, and it smells like baking soda and lemons, not my territory. The dog is still here, and I’m starting to tell myself that he is here to stay.

So, if you hear my “mom” complain or cry about how rough her week has been….just think of me. I’m pretty sure mine has been much, much worse.

Love, Moose

This is the best picture I could find of me with my might hunter lion tail.